


A Chain To Be Severed

by vrona



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Implied Child Abandonment, also Umibozu is kinda the worst father in the world, bby yatos, in which kagura is very determined to treat kamui's wounds, set before things went to shit, so is housen, so kagura is like 9, yato papi and mommy are referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5723458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrona/pseuds/vrona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way he ever comes home is tattered, bloody and disheveled. The only one who ever greets him is his little sister. He shouldn't be surprised by now.</p><p>Even though it shouldn't be her who gets left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chain To Be Severed

"He's not home." A quiet voice makes its way to Kamui's ears through the raindrops that bounce off of his tattered umbrella. A voice he knows well — a childish, yet strangely decisive tone. A voice he hoped not to hear.

_So he left her alone with mom again._

"And you're not asleep," he replies, instinctively shifting his right side away from the source of light that was cut out by his sister's tiny silhouette.

"Mommy was worried." Kagura’s red eyes and a slight frown tell him their mother wasn't the only one. But it was inevitable. He had to flee from home for a few days after his last fight with father. He wouldn't want his sister to see him like this. Hiding from mom was easier, but Kagura's keen eyes seemed to look right through him every time.

This is fine, he decides. All the deeper wounds have mended, mostly, and the new ones are barely scratches. All he hoped to do was slipping into their house and changing into something slightly less tattered before facing his mother.

He sends Kagura a smile, walking up to her. His right arm is stinging slightly, something he had numbed himself to long ago. Still, feeling anything at all in it raises a red flag in his mind. His worn-out umbrella rests securely in his left hand, providing another shield from curious eyes. Going around her on her right it is. He hopes he doesn't reek with blood as much as he thinks he does. In a few short steps, he's right next to her. She almost cringes, something their father often misses when he's close to her, but Kamui knows. He does reek after all.

"Go to sleep, crybaby," he says, putting as much mock into his voice as he can. He walks inside, deciding to head to their room for a change of clothes as soon as he can. Blood isn't the only thing he reeks with, and it annoys him to no end. A quick bath would be wonderful — waking mom not so much...

"Wait!" Kagura yells after him, and then quickly covers her mouth with her tiny hands, remembering her mommy is asleep. Kamui almost sighs.

"What is it?" He asks with the same mocking smile he greeted her with. "Did you wet yourself and want your big brother to help you change? Sorry, but your big brother is quite busy at the moment." She pouts, reminding him just how fun teasing her is. He almost missed it. Almost, he reminds himself.

"You should tell mommy you're back. She didn't sleep much last night because of you."

 _And you didn't either,_ a quiet voice in the back of his mind adds, a voice full of care and concern only adding weight to the guilt he already felt for making mom worry. That voice should have been dead by now.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll greet her alright, but you have to agree that waking her right now is not the best idea, is it?" He looks back, carefully rotating to face her with his left side, folding what's left of his umbrella. He tries to grip it with his right hand, and a sudden pierce of pain surprises him. It doesn't show on his face, that's not a problem. There is, however, a problem, and that problem is the liquid that starts running down his right forearm. 

He throws Kagura a particularly intimidating look, doing his best to deter her from coming closer, but it doesn't seem to work. She wavers. Her weight shifts when she decides to move, and just before she has the chance to come closer, her brother turns back and proceeds to walk to their room. The faster the better, he decides. Just like yanking a large piece of metal out of his forearm, which was coincidentally exactly what he had done several hours earlier.

He tries not to speed up too much, not even when he hears Kagura’s steps right behind him. When he enters the room, he throws his umbrella on the floor as casually as he can, just to be able to equally casually wipe his arm into the side of his clothes. It might work. Kagura only stands in the threshold of the room, clearly at a loss to deal with her irresponsible brother. These precious few seconds that she requires to figure out her next step are just what Kamui needs to grab a clean change of clothes at random. Now all he needs is the bathroom. Approaching Kagura calmly like a small animal, he puts on yet another smile, hoping that this one will be even more intimidating and maybe do its job.

"Move." He gains himself yet another pout. What a handful.

"Where were you?" _Oh, so she finally figured this might be a good question to ask._ Too bad it won’t be answered, Kamui decides.

"Will you finish this and get out?" He asks, hoping his message is clear. Get out of the way already, brat.

"I asked first." Kagura's eyes nearly glisten with tears. This kid needs to start controlling herself.

"I asked second. I'll tell you right away if you let me through. I can't show myself to mom looking like this, can I?" _And I really can't have you start crying here, you'll wake her._

With the smallest nod, she gets out of his way, and he slithers through, just to make another step through the bathroom door, right on the opposite. With one swift move, he closes and locks the door behind him, taking the precious answer to her question with him. A tiny part of him wishes he could see Kagura's face now.

Several seconds pass, and when no noise comes from the outside, he decides it's safe to turn the light on. A bare light bulb just under the ceiling flickers to life. It’s not a steady light, and Kamui wonders when it will finally give up.

Worst case scenario would be Kagura starting to cry, as that would definitely activate their mother's delicate Kagura-senses, waking her up in the process. Not the best option. Kamui hopes that if he gives her a while to accept the fact that her brother is now locked up in the bathroom, probably changing, she will not resort to tears. And maybe forget about the question she raised.

A while more passes, and he sighs with relief. No cries are coming. Wonderful. He begins to undress, slowly, not to open any more of his wounds. (He doesn't mind the pain, but it would be hard to hide the blood on his fresh clothes.) A bath is out of question — too loud, plus, thinking about it, he isn't entirely sure if an ice-cold bath in the middle of the night is something he really wants. Washing his wounds would be a much neater option, and he decides to go with that.

Once the only clothing remaining on his body is his underwear, he takes a few glances at his skin, searching for any new scratches he had missed before. There aren't many of those, not this time fortunately. The dark red staining his already dirty bandage reminds him that the gash on his right thigh reopened right before he came back. The wounds on his ribs seem okay. His left foot too, though it does sting a little. That forearm would be the biggest problem. As far as Kamui knows, nothing major had been pierced through, or so he hopes. There should be a needle in the cabinet... No, he isn't good enough with it. Not with this kind of wound. He’ll ask someone more experienced to stitch him up tomorrow.

His eyes wander off to the old mirror that is resting against the wall (like it has for the past few months). Kamui knows it like an old friend, every scratch, every stain of rust, every crack and rupture glistening in the flickering light from above. And every now and then he asks himself which one looks worse — the glass or his reflection. Usually it's the latter. Today it's the latter. It's only when he hears a soft knock that he notices he isn't smiling anymore.

He almost forgot she was outside. A grin crawls back onto his face in a habit he never noticed picking up, even though he knows well the meaning it carried. Kamui waits, hoping for a question or a statement to follow, but there's nothing. Only silence greets him. He considers saying something, but abandons the idea quickly. Hurrying up would be the best choice, before she decides what she wants to say. Before she decides to pick the lock, an easy trick with a lock this old. A trick he had taught her himself. That thought comes with a strange mix of pride and bitterness.

Filling the sink with water brings him back to reality. The cold liquid bites the grazes on his fingers lightly, in the nicest, the most familiar way, and he keeps his hands in for a few second. He then grabs the old rag that was tucked in behind the tap, right where he had left it. He soaks it, wrings it out lightly and leaves it on the brink of the sink. It would be best to start with his thigh. This way he can at least put his pants on before Kagura barges in (and without the bandage it surely looks way worse than his forearm). It doesn't take him long to work the gauze off and start rinsing the wound. As painful as it is, he still wishes he could afford a trip to the kitchen to find something to disinfect it better. This will have to do. 

There aren't many bandages left in the cabinet above the sink, definitely not enough for all of his injuries. A grin of satisfaction dances on his lips invoked by the implications of it. Could it be that after their last fight his father used up what little supply Kamui had gathered? He quickly wraps the pure white gauze around his thigh tightly, looks at it pridefully, and puts his clean pants on. It doesn't matter what happens with his forearm, as long as mom doesn't smell the blood... Is that knocking? With a slight frown, he looks at the door. That was most definitely a knock. And another one. And another. For how long has she been...?

Kamui fights off a frown with a careful smile. Should he wipe the blood off his arms and ribs before opening the door? No, better leave it on. Might scare her off, even if for a few moments. Then again, if she's being as persistent as he fears she is, that might not be enough. Her knocks aren't very urgent. Well, it is worth a shot. What a pain his little sister is.

The old lock gives up under the lightest touch of his fingers, and quietly for once. He waits for another knock, and when it comes he knows she didn't even notice the door is open. With a grin on his face, he spends the next few seconds picturing her movements behind the door. Kagura's tiny fist going down after hitting the tattered wooden door. Then up, slowly, in a tired yet decisive movement. A knock like any other. And just when he thinks she will be knocking again, Kamui abruptly swings the door open, and leans out just above her face.

"Boo!" And with a short gasp, she staggers and falls back, landing on the hard ground. There are tears pooling in her eyes again.

"Mean, stupid brother!" She almost yells, almost, knowing better than to wake mommy. Marvelling at his little triumph, Kamui spots the items that fell out of her grip when she fell. 

"Why did you bring these?" He asks, genuinely surprised with the presence of dad's cheap booze and old, yet seemingly clean bandages anywhere near his sister.

"Because, you're wounded, obviously." And it really sounds like a logical explanation when it comes from her. A snort escapes Kamui's lips.

"It's very nice of you to worry about your big brother like that, but big brother can take care of himself. Go away, keep an eye on mom or something. You seem to be particularly talented at that." He mocks her, and regrets it immediately. Partially because he fears she might start crying, partially because for all his contempt for the weakling that Kagura is, he knows she didn't choose this. Neither of them did.

And it shouldn't be _them_ watching their mother die.

He bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds, trying to keep a smile with all his might. She's going to cry this time, he knows it. And yet, Kagura only looks down, shakes her head, and raises her round face to throw him a look of challenge. 

"Let me treat those." Her tiny finger is pointing at his forearm, and Kamui blinks a few times in surprise. However, he can't allow her to throw him off with just this.

"Oh?" As he leans against the frame of the door, the wood creaks softly. "And why would I do that? Last time I checked you were still a pretty lousy nurse."

She pouts, and a familiar sense of superiority makes him feel warm inside, only for a second before he denies it ever happened. Kagura is weak. Kagura is a nuisance. Kagura will stop him someday if he allows her to. Housen says he can't let that happen.

"I've been practicing."

"With these?" He points at the bandages on the ground, reminding her of their existence. His little sister gets to her feet and scurries to pick the supplies up. "If the answer is yes, I'm not sure I want these dirty rags anywhere near my skin." He closes his mouth before more words can spill out. 

_Nor do I want you anywhere near it._

"Just let me do it." Her tone is as firm and decisive as a nine years old's tone can get. Quite endearing, really. Even more so since she's not even looking at him, too busy with picking up the items she dropped.

"No." He tries to match the emotions in her voice while making his voice deeper, then again, his results aren't much better than hers. She straightens up and walks closer to him, unfazed, gripping the medical supplies like her life depended on it.

"I'll tell mommy." Kamui cringes at these words, and a small grin of satisfaction appears on Kagura's face.

"I cannot believe you just played the mom card."

"Everything is fair in love and at war, idiot brother."

"Oh, so you _do_ admit to love your big brother." He jumped at the chance and seized it, it is now his turn to grin. Ah how he loves teasing his little- No, that is not right. He just loves teasing people in general. Definitely that.

"Jeez." With a grumble she walks closer, and pushes him aside to squeeze through the bathroom door. He allows it with mild amusement, knowing that trying to stop her would be quite impossible. "You're an ass, you know."

He whistles. "You shouldn't be saying things like 'ass', you know? Nobody is going to marry you."

"And nobody is going to marry a moron who only comes home bloodied and in pieces." She retorts, putting her supplies on the ground, next to the mirror. She draws out a small, wooden stool from under the sink. "Sit," is her only command, and Kagura's eyes look straight into her brother's as if challenging him to disobey. She really does look a lot like mom these days.

Kamui sighs.

"Fine, but washing your big brother's back is the most you can do. You are not putting anything on me." Well, if she has made herself comfortable, he can at least make some use of her. Hopefully the light won’t go out when she’s holding something sharp.

Kagura nods, and with this confirmation Kamui obediently sits on the stool, face to the sink, his sister's small figure tucked between himself and the old mirror to his right. She grabs the same rag he used before, rinses it, and carefully lifts Kamui's right arm. Her fingers are cold against his skin, from the water and the weather he assumes, and he notices the slightest tremble. She was never particularly comfortable with blood... no, that isn't right. The dried off blood on the walls down the street never bothered her, neither did the sight of men killing each other behind every corner. If anything, it made her more curious, which was good — she is a Yato after all. Mere sight of blood isn't what concerns her right now.

"Most of it isn't _mine_ , you know." He lies, and he isn't sure why. He doesn't care what she thinks, how she feels, after all. His sister's presence is merely a nuisance.

"Whose is it, then?" Kagura asks, wiping the dry stains with great care. He scoffs, noticing how it doesn't match her — treating him like he's going to die from the slightest touch, even though they're usually so rough with each other. It doesn't match her at all.

He won’t answer that either, he decides, looking away. Kagura uses this instance to duck and lift the old bottle she brought. She sets it on the sink and begins to fight off the cork that keeps slipping from in between her fingers.

"Wait, I said you're not putting anything on me and I meant it!" A shiver goes down his spine, but Kamui is most certainly not panicking. Even though the sheer idea of having dad's old booze in his wounds fills him with unspeakable dread. He is most certainly not panicking.

"Well, you said I can clean you up, and I need to disinfect the wounds somehow, dumbass!" He reaches out for the bottle, but Kagura snitches it from his reach just in time. Kamui rises, unintentionally putting too much weight on his right leg. There is no pain that he could register, other than the pulsing stinging he's been aware of for a while, and yet his muscles don't seem to listen to him, making him stagger a bit. Which is enough for Kagura to force him down with her free hand, so hard the stool creaks beneath him and he almost slides off. 

"What are you so afraid of? It's not like you'd care if it hurt anyway." Annoyance is now clear in Kagura's voice. The hurt hidden underneath it doesn't escape him, nothing like that ever really does. Whether or not he does anything about it is another matter entirely.

Without a word, he grabs the rag, rinses it and proceeds to wash a stain of dried off blood off his right shoulder. He ought to get himself a cloak one of these days, if only to stain his clothes, and by extension the skin underneath, a bit less. Or because it looks cool. It would definitely look cool on him. Hard not to smile at that thought. 

The back of his head being smacked by a small palm yanks him from his daydream.

"What are you grinning about, help me!" Kagura is still struggling with the bottle, but as painful to watch as it is, he has no intention of helping her out. That thing is plainly gross in all the ways possible.

She pouts again, and changes her tactics. Instead of pulling the cork, his ingenious little sister decides to try and shove it in. A small fist carefully hits the cork a few times, pushing it deeper, and once it's somehow almost entirely in, she proceeds to shove it further with her thumb. Actual mental effort is what it takes for Kamui to stop watching, and even more of it to stop wondering what the hell is thinking. At last, he picked up the rag again and rinsed it. Just when about to go back to cleaning himself, a loud crash right next to him made him stop in his tracks.

"Are you _really that stupid_?!" It's his turn to smack Kagura's head, and he makes sure to put into it more strength than she did. His little sister nearly drops what's left of the bottle she almost shattered against the wall mere seconds ago. Though it's only the neck of the bottle that's lying on the floor, probably like she intended it to, there's glass and alcohol everywhere. And it was _loud_. "You want to wake mom?"

"Shut up!" She turns around to face him, spilling more of the disgusting liquid with every move. Its nauseating smell starts to fill the room. "All the better if she wakes. Then she'll see what kinda idiot you are."

"What is this about?" He asks, slowly losing his patience. Everything about this situation starts to feel off — from how persistent Kagura is about treating his wounds, to the fact that their mother is not awake yet, tearing the bathroom door down, either worried or absolutely livid. And the damn light bulb won’t stop flickering. 

"It was a necessary sacrifice." Kagura replies, looking at the bottle with fondness, the way Housen looks at his cook sometimes when Kamui exits the kitchen with half of their food supplies resting in his stomach. He tries to resist a chuckle and loses.

"I wasn't talking about that thing. And put it down already, or it will be your big brother who's going to treat your wounds."

Kagura crouches next to the mirror to put the bottle down with a pout. She looks at her hands for a second, and raises them above her head, grinning. There are a few scratches, nothing special, but she is bleeding a bit. In response to that gesture, Kamui squints a little, and grabs one of her hands, (roughly, to establish his dominance as the older sibling).

"This doesn't count." It surprises him just how offended he sounds — he is, in a way, but he didn’t really mean to show it.

"It obviously counts. Now that I got wounded because of you," Kamui rolls his eyes at this, "...let me treat you already." The determination is back in her eyes. The thought that he still can't tell why she's so intent on this ticks him off.

He sighs. Oh, what the hell. He's too tired to play around like that. What's the worst that could happen?

"Try not to tie the bandages too tight again. And if you try to get that thing into my wounds again, I am going to kill you." The only reply he gets from Kagura is a small nod. This will have to do. With that, Kamui allows his sister to lift his right arm again, this time ready to wrap it with clean gauze. He watches her for a few moments, and when her delicate movements ensure him that his life is in no real danger, he begins undoing the old, bloodstained bandages on his ribs using his left hand. 

The smell of blood mixes with the moist, evening air and the odour of alcohol, making a barely breathable mixture for the siblings to work in. The light bulb goes off for a second and turns back on every now and then. It's cold and quiet, the only sounds being the two ripping pieces of gauze and heavy raindrops hitting the windowsill. Kamui wants to sleep, and Kagura's drowsy movements make it obvious he's not the only one. But there's still something he has to do before, something that fills him with guilt and uncertainty every time.

"Kagura," he speaks after a while of washing the old wounds on his ribs. His sister freezes in the middle of tying the bandages together into seems to be a tiny bow. "Why is mom not awake yet?"

The question hangs in the air, and he wonders whether Kagura will answer at all. It's not like he doesn't have a fair idea. Neither does he want to make _her_ say it, not really. It's just that tiny bit of hope that won't disappear whatever he thinks of, a spark that will not be stifled until he hears the dreaded words with his own ears.

Every second his sister spends staring at the ground at her feet feels like eternity. Kamui is not a very patient person, he had never been one for waiting, but he is willing to do it now. Imagining what must be going on in this tiny head doesn't make it easier. Her features change slightly as she tries to sort out her thoughts. As she processes what is going on with their mother, and what is going to happen to her soon. Kamui just waits like a good brother for once. 

She lifts her head after what feels to him like hours, and what he knows couldn't have been more than a minute. The boy readies himself, knowing what is to come, aware that he must allow it. Kagura looks at him, her eyes filled with tears. She doesn't bother trying to stop them anymore. Kamui can feel his sister's weak, scrawny arms embracing him with more power than he considered them capable of, her whole weight sinking into his chest, her forehead bumping into his left shoulder, just above the collarbone. Her force surprises him for a fraction of second, enough to threaten to try to push him off the stool again, but he regains his balance. Quiet wails and tiny hiccups follow. 

Something in the back of his mind tells him how badly she needs to be hugged now, how he should embrace and protect this tiny body the universe has entrusted him with. (Her tears are warm against his skin, warmer than he thought tears could ever be.) He shushes it. There are things he cannot allow himself to do, and it's one of them. (Kagura is shaking, shaking so badly, and heavens, does he just want it to _stop_.) She has to grow strong. Even Housen says so. (Was she always this frail for her age?) And whatever Kamui wishes he could do, protecting her has never been and will never be the task he picks out of his free will. 

He looks down, trying to find a distraction, and the unfinished bow catches his attention. It hurts. It hurts so badly, more than any of his wounds have ever hurt. Guilt is a scary thing, he realises. There is no regret in his heart, no loss, no fear. There's only guilt whenever he thinks of leaving this idiot baby sister of his to mend for herself. Well. It can't be helped. He wouldn’t be able to stay here for long, not when mom… 

The light gives up. Nobody pays it much attention.

He raises his right hand and rests it softly on Kagura's head, barely touching her brittle hair. Painfully slowly, her shaking reduces to trembling. Already quiet, weeps go to whimpers. Kamui doesn't look at her, focusing on the rhythm of the rain that’s banging against the thin walls of their home. They’re a millstone around his neck, both her and mom, really. His millstone. The light bulb revives itself, bathing the room in dim, still flickering light. A deep breath fills his lungs with chilly air, and his mind with resolve.

"Kagura," he begins, not much louder than her own voice. "Please stop."

She doesn't. Instead, another fit of hiccups comes, and Kamui starts questioning her general ability to talk about mom. It hits him how annoying that is. How annoying she is, acting like a baby, just when she will have to start acting more adult. It's all her fault. Even with dad. He wouldn't have gotten into that last fight with that if she didn't stand around when he was getting scolded. He wouldn't have lashed out at him like that. Not yet, anyway. 

And he wouldn't hesitate about what he was going to do some day.

"Hey there, stupid crybaby." He removes hand from her head and pats her back instead. With a forced a smile back on his face, he tries to sound as carefree as he can. "There, there. Look, I'm sure it's alright, so just tell me how mom is doing, okay? She’ll be fine."

A few more sniffles, and at long last his sister unwraps her arms and moves back a little. Kamui offers her a look of understanding — the same one mom gives him whenever she catches him on a lie. It seems to be effective, as Kagura frowns slightly at herself. This time it's her who needs a deep breath. She opens her mouth to whisper lightly into the evening air.

"Mommy can't get up from bed anymore. And waking her up is getting harder, too."

Kagura looks back down, and her brother follows her line of sight, needing a few seconds to digest this information. It is getting worse after all. Only a few weeks ago the doctor told him she wouldn't have much left after she stops walking. He feels a heavy lump form in his stomach, his insides being crushed together.

"Does dad know?" He blurts out after a while, a question he doesn't really need an answer to. It’s not like he cares anyway, it’s just the unbearable silence that’s getting to him.

A nod from his baby sister makes the knot inside of him tie harder. So he is the last one to find out after all. That's a surprise. Kamui really doesn't want to think about it.

"Since when is she...?" Another question comes, this time one he actually wanted to ask. He looks at her with the grimmest anticipation.

"The day after you ran. Pappy was still here." She's quiet, and clearly uncomfortable talking about it, so he decides not to push it anymore. He doesn't think he'd want to push anyway. Not with how his throat tightens with every breath he takes.

They both avoid each other's eyes. There's an urge to apologize in the back of his mind, and he holds it back with all his might. He doesn't have to apologize, Kamui repeats in his head over and over again, hoping that maybe if he repeats it enough, that thought will drill itself into his very core. There's nothing for him to apologize for, he knew what he was getting into, he has no regrets. Absolutely no regrets. The taste of blood fills his mouth as he bites the inside of his cheek again.

"Don't worry," he starts without thinking. "Mom is strong. She'll be up before you know it."

Kamui tries to grin, but Kagura saves him the trouble, She turns her back to him, staring at the window above her. She won't take a blatant lie like that anymore, will she? A small smile crawls onto his face as he stares at his weak little sister's back in the flickering light that goes dimmer with every second. She did grow up a little.

 _Enough of this grim atmosphere_ , he decides as he gets up, regaining her attention.

"Okay then. Only these are left." He takes a wide bandage from the verge of the sink, and just when he's about to start wrapping it around his ribs, he turns to her. "So, are you going to finish this?"

He lifts his right forearm, and Kagura wraps her small hands around it immediately. With a strange tinge of nostalgia, Kamui watches her fingers tangle tiny bits of the bandage. He's going to miss it.

"Kagura." Kamui says, and she looks up as if she’s expecting something, he doesn't know what. "You know... You don't have to stay here."

He’s not sure where he’s going with this, or why did he even start.

Kagura doesn't know either. She cocks her head a bit with a frown, and just before she gets to call him out on that (he can already see her mouth move just to spew the word "idiot") he grins, throwing her thoughts off the track.

Something inside of him wants to tell her to run. To take all of her things and flee once mom no longer breathes, which he knows will happen soon (and it tears him apart steadily, day by day, but he won’t move as long as mommy is still here). Kagura wouldn’t abandon their sorry excuse for a father, he knows, but what she doesn’t realise is that they both have been abandoned by him long ago. He wants her to know that, to get angry, to maybe finally start acting like a Yato even if just because she’s upset. But this stupid brat won’t get it, he knows, and she will surely be left behind because of that someday. The realisation he doesn’t want it for her is sudden, violent and it confuses him. And yet… it’s familiar. Apparently the bond with his baby sister isn’t something he can sever overnight.

Kamui smiles to himself, and for the first time in a while his own smile fills him with warmth.

"Just wander around for a bit. They say rabbits can die of loneliness."

Kagura still doesn't seem to get what he's implying, but that's okay, he figures. He did his best. Mom won't last long, and once Housen gathers his men and ships, Kamui will be leaving with him. Before that, he considers taking on someone else, someone who isn't going to be around too much anyway. Getting back for all this time _he_ should be there for mom instead of his children. His death wouldn’t be much of a loss.

The bow Kagura finished is tiny, uneven and messy. And endearing, somehow.

"See, that's what I was talking about when I said you were a lousy nurse." He points at the bow with his chin, and his sister squints at his amused face. "Let me finish up with these and we can go to mom." Kamui caresses his ribs, looking for a good place to start wrapping from. The light goes out again, but that doesn’t stop him.

"You're a real idiot, you know?"

He hears the faintest sign of worry in Kagura's voice, and when he looks at her in the dark it's their mother he sees — the tired features, gentle smile, and care in her eyes, as if he's the one who's about to fall into eternal sleep. So she _does_ get it after all. He pets her head softly — it's the last time, he promises himself. The last night Kagura still means more to him than a weakling unworthy of fighting or killing. But for now... he thinks he can enjoy this just a little while longer.

"Yeah," he whispers, and as he hears the rain hit louder, with newly found resolve he adds the words of apology — inaudible, drowned out by the raindrops behind the thin wall. 

And this is all Kamui can offer her for what is to come.


End file.
